


Chapter 4: Between Love & Hate

by distantlight



Series: Albus & Scorpius: Life Is Simple In The Moonlight [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, LGBT, Love, M/M, Romance, Scorbus, queer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 07:26:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7967764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantlight/pseuds/distantlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of their passionate kiss, an angry Scorpius and a bitter Albus argue by the lake. The expertise of Gilderoy Lockhart is called upon to clean up the situation, although it appears his intentions may not be entirely honorable. With Christmas approaching, the boys need to find partners for the Yule Ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter 4: Between Love & Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 4 of the [Albus & Scorpius: Life Is Simple In The Moonlight](http://archiveofourown.org/series/539242) series.

"Now what are we going to do," said Albus incredulously, as Vince Crane's lifeless body came to a halt against a pumpkin stalk.

"Throw him in the lake," said Scorpius, only half joking. He strode over to his victim and kicked him onto his front with relish. "Knocked him out cold. Damn good spell even if I do say so myself."

Albus pulled his sweater on, still shaking his head, wondering why trouble seemed to follow him around. Less than a week ago he had been walking down a cold corridor wondering if he was going to be expelled – now he was stood on a cold lawn with his best and only friend wondering if _he_ was going to be expelled. Maybe the headmistress had been right, maybe he _should_ be spending less time with Scorpius. They had brought each other nothing but trouble lately.

"Couldn't you have just called him a horrible name or something?" complained Albus. "They're going to throw the book at you for this. Stunning someone is a serious offence even for an adult wizard. You'll just have to hope he doesn't grass on you – he did mention the other day how he hated sneaks. You might be thrown out if McGonagall hears about this."

"Calm yourself, nobody is getting thrown out," said Scorpius confidently.

"Hmm," said Albus doubtfully, walking over to Crane's rigid torso and trying to remember the counter jinx to reanimate him. "Suppose I better wake him up, then" he sighed.

"You'll do no such thing," ordered Scorpius, who was finally fully dressed again and striding over with his wand out. "He'll run back up to the castle and tell everyone what he saw!"

"Is that such a bad thing?" asked Albus.

"Are you mental? The whole school will be laughing at us, calling us the two Slytherin bum boys or something!"

"Isn't it better to be laughed at for who you are then smiled at for who you're not?" said Albus quietly.

"No it bloody isn't," snapped Scorpius. "What are you suggesting, that we go to the Yule Ball hand in hand and slow dance to love songs together? That might be who you are, but it isn't who I am."

"So all that on the lake, what was that? You were just pretending to kiss me?"

"Jesus, it was a bit of fun, that's all."

"Maybe I don't want to be your bit of fun," said Albus, his voice rising. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck beginning to stand up, and it had nothing to do with the cold breeze whistling in from the mountains. "I'm not a book for you to pull off the shelf whenever you need some light entertainment, and then put away again once something more interesting comes along. I'm not a mannequin for you to try clothes on to see which ones fit best. I'm your BEST FRIEND. At least I thought I was."

"So don't ruin that!" shouted Scorpius. He had lost all his warmth and euphoria from an hour before, and now looked as pale and tired and jittery as ever under the moonlight. "Why do you have to take everything so fucking seriously? Always wanting to talk about things, always staring out of windows thinking all your deep thoughts and pondering the meaning of life. Why does everything we do have to _mean something_? God forbid I do something just because it feels good in the moment, without spending hours contemplating my feelings. We were messing around and got carried away, it isn't a big deal. You're not gay and neither am I, so don't ruin our friendship over some stupid kiss."

It was the longest speech Scorpius had ever given, and the most intense. He was usually too laid back, too cool to talk about anything properly, using sarcasm to mask any sentiment. He had charm and beauty, and that was all he needed.

Albus stared at the ground miserably and ran his hands through his jet black hair. On the one hand Scorpius was right – if they did take it further, if they did take the plunge, their friendship would be irrevocably changed forever. This was the exact reason Albus had been suppressing his feelings for so long. He treasured their companionship above all else in life, and didn't want to risk it for what might be just a fleeting lust born out of boredom and adolescent desire.

On the other hand, change wasn't always a bad thing. If they took things further they could foster bonds deeper than friendship, bonds that would last forever. Albus felt the word love floating around his brain and tried to swat it away like an irritating wasp. _He likes girls_ , said a voice in his head, _he likes tits and he likes vaginas and he likes your cousin more than he could ever like you._

Scorpius was scowling at him. Albus resented that even when Scorpius was at his most aloof and dismissive, he still couldn't stop wanting him. He would rather be shouted at by Scorpius than flattered by Paris Black. Maybe that was what love was. Did that then give Scorpius permission to warmly lead him on and coldly dismiss him ten minutes later?

"I'm not anyone's experiment," said Albus defiantly under his breath.

Scorpius had wandered off, and was now crouched down lifting his wand to his face and breathing in deeply. When he returned he seemed to have regained his composure and sense of purpose. Crane was starting to stir on the floor, the use of his limbs gradually returning to him and muttering under his breath.

"So what's the great master plan, then?" asked Albus coolly. "Are you going to seduce him like you did to me, bribe him into silence with sexual favours? Or are you just going to wait for him to wake up, apologise for beating him to a pulp and cursing him unconscious and then ask him nicely to keep quiet?"

"Nope," said Scorpius. "We're going to put a memory charm on the little bastard. Make him forget every little thing he saw tonight."

"Well, of course, _naturally_ ," replied Albus, his voice so dripping with sarcasm he could have been mistaken for Scorpius himself. "The fact that neither of us knows how to perform a memory charm matters not! The fact that it is a highly complex spell the use of which is regulated by the Ministry of Magic itself is irrelevant! The possibility that it could go terribly wrong and erase his entire memory is just a hazard we must take! After all, the sky would cave in around us if anyone possibly had any evidence to suggest you are not the raging heterosexual stud of a man you present to the world...you're actually serious about this, aren't you?" he finished, looking at his friend disbelievingly.

"Too right I am," said Scorpius with a sneer. "How hard can it be? He never had much upstairs to begin with, I doubt people will notice if he gets a bit more forgetful."

"This isn't some practical joke," said Albus. "This isn't performing the jelly legs charm on a first year - this is serious. Gilderoy Lockhart ended up in a mental institution for ten years when a memory charm went wrong on him!"

"You got an alternative?"

"Tell the truth?" suggested Albus, giving his friend a withering look.

"Nobody cares about truth," said Scorpius animatedly. "The only thing that matters is how things seem, not how things are."

But Albus had stopped listening – _Gilderoy Lockart_. That was the answer. Harry had told Albus that Lockhart was the most skilled wizard at modifying memories who had ever lived. The authenticity of every one of his books had rested on his ability to track down the true heroes of the stories and erase their minds completely.

He turned the dilemma over in his head. Asking his teacher to perform an illegal charm on a fellow student was not an ideal course of action, especially when Albus himself didn't particularly care whether Crane told people about what he had seen. Conversely, he was cold and tired and just wanted his friend back, wanted to stop the conflict. He knew Scorpius was not going to let this go – surely it was better that someone with skill attempted to modify Crane's memory, rather than Scorpius, who would surely get expelled and even prosecuted if it went wrong, as it almost certainly would.

Crane let out a loud grunt and rolled over in the pumpkin patch, covering his robes in wet mud. Out of the corner of his eye Albus saw Scorpius focus his eyes, take out his wand and aim it at the head of his helpless Quidditch teammate who was still dazed on the floor.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," cried Albus, and Scorpius' wand flew towards him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" shouted Scorpius angrily.

"Stopping my best friend doing something he will regret," said Albus calmly. Scorpius made as if to speak again but something about the determined expression of his friend stopped him, and suddenly he look ashamed and defeated, as if the events of the day had finally caught up with him.

"Don't know what is happening to me lately," he muttered. "I'm such a prick."

Feeling mollified, Albus continued.

"Now here is what is going to happen. You're going to stay here and make sure he doesn't wake up. I'm going to find Gilderoy Lockhart and convince him to sort this mess out – he knows all about memory charms and will be able to modify his mind safely."

"Can we trust him – Lockhart I mean?" said Scorpius doubtfully.

"I doubt it. But I have enough dirt on him about all the stuff he invented for his books to make sure it is in his interest to help us out. He won't want to be outed as a fraud any more than you want to be outed as a homo..."

"Ha ha," said Scorpius.

"And remember, I'm not helping you because I approve of this madness. I'm doing it because I'm a loyal friend. You're going to owe me big time if this comes off."

"Oh, I'm sure I can find some way to pay you back," Scorpius replied with a weak smile and the hint of a wink.

"Don't," said Albus firmly. "Just make sure you stay here and keep an eye on him. I won't be long."

"I love it when you're masterful," called Scorpius after him, and in spite of himself Albus felt his spirits lift as he ran to the castle.

 

\-----

 

Gilderoy Lockhart was reclining in an armchair by the fire when Albus arrived at his office. His eyes were hung low, immersed in a dark red volume of literature. Clad only in a pair of pink silk pyjama bottoms, the flickering flames glowed against his toned, golden torso, and despite the urgency of the situation Albus couldn't help admiring the flat, washboard abdominals and protruding pectoral muscles that gave Lockhart the appearance of an extremely beautiful Adonis from Greek mythology.

"Albus, Albus, Albus. I was wondering when I'd be seeing you!" he purred as Albus put his head round the door.

"Well, you can stop wondering," Albus smiled.

"Take a seat, my boy, take a seat," said Lockhart airily, conjuring a chintz armchair out of thin air. He showed not the least embarrassment at being caught in a state of undress by a student – in fact, by the way his door had remained alluringly ajar, it was almost as if he had hoped for such a thing to occur. "Just doing a bit of light reading," he said, gesturing to the thick book he had laid down on an oak coffee table. "My own autobiography, entitled _Magical Me_ ," he explained. "I sometimes forget even myself what wonderful achievements I have accomplished!"

"I can imagine," said Albus wryly.

"I knew you would be here for a chat. About your fears, your desires. Difficult, isn't it, coping with obscurity in the world of celebrity? But as I once said to your father, fame is but a fickle fiend, and there are those who let it suck them under." He surveyed Albus up and down in a way that was not quite appropriate for a teacher. "The son of the great Harry Potter – how hard it must be to live up to his fame his glory. Is that why you attempted to disfigure Professor Constantine with that potion?"

"No, that was an accide-"

"-indeed my own son found it impossible to cope with the demands of being the child of the most famous dark wizard catcher of his age. He insisted on being sent to school in Australia, and cannot even bear to write to me, such is the pressure upon his young shoulders."

"Look, I'm not here for advice on being famous. I need a favour actually," said Albus a little hesitantly.

"I thought as much – you want to know the secret to these firm, rippling abs, don't you?"

"No, it isn't that," said Albus, although admittedly he wouldn't have minded a few tips, conscious he was of his skinny frame.

"Is it your hair, then? So dark and lank. You wish to know how to make it blond and luscious like mine? My dear Albus, it is simply the case of choosing the right conditioner, and-"

"-No, it isn't that either."

"Looking for stories about your father, are you? Wanting to hear about the time I saved him in the Chamber of Secrets, when we fought the Dark Lord side by side?"

"No," said Albus, getting frustrated. He was hungry and he was tired and he was getting tetchy. The dark, humid ambiance of the office was giving him a headache. "Look, cut the bullshit, Lockhart. I know none of that stuff you talk about ever happened."

The look on Lockhart's face changed instantly. Where he had once displayed a smiling indulgence and pleasant smile, he now wore pursed lips and the faintest hint of anger.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Albus," he said pleasantly.

"Yes you do. And you'll be helping me out tonight, unless you want the whole school to know what a fraud you really are."

"So, blackmail is it? Yes, your father was an arrogant and irritating boy as well."

"I'm nothing like my father," said Albus.

"Well, it is true you possess none of his talent," said Lockhart with a smirk.

"Hurt your calendar sales, won't it?" said Albus, refusing to rise to the bait, "You being outed as a fraud. Those modelling jobs will soon dry up."

"You are a meddlesome and loathsome child," said Lockhart, his syrupy smile failing to conceal a grimace. "Out with it boy, I haven't got all night. What favour do you wish to ask?"

So Albus recounted the whole sorry tale of the evening, omitting of course the fact that he and Scorpius had been locked in a fervent, half naked embrace when Vince Crane had stumbled upon them.

"Very well, very well," said Lockhart, irritated but resigned to his fate. "I'll clean up your mess."

He pulled on a black toweling robe and slippers, and they hurried down corridors and staircases, Albus running ahead to make sure the coast was clear.

"The embarrassment, if anyone were to see me like this," muttered Lockhart self pityingly. "Clad in a gown, wandering the castle in violet slippers. I don't deserve this..."

"Finally, you're here," said Scorpius when they arrived. "I kept fearing he would fully wake up – had a close call five minutes ago with Hagrid patrolling the grounds, tried to perform a disillusionment charm on myself, not sure it worked properly."

Lockhart examined Vince Crane, who was now twitching slightly and muttering.

"What exactly is it that you wish him to forget?"

"Um...just everything he did after about six tonight, everything he saw," said Scorpius evasively.

"And what would that be?" asked Lockhart with a smirk.

"Does it matter?" said Albus testily.

"Only if you are of a curious disposition, like myself," smiled Lockhart. Scorpius was getting restless. Albus could sense Lockhart would like to toy with them for a while longer, but luckily it was past midnight and there was a distinct chill in the air, especially to someone as scantily clad as the potions professor.

" _Obliviate_ ," hissed Lockhart with a skilled flick of his wand, crouching over Crane. His wand extracted a thin, silvery substance from the brain of the dazed boy, and with another swish of his wand Lockhart sent this drifting away on the wind towards the forbidden forest.

" _Enervate_ ," said Lockhart in a dry, bored voice, and Crane instantly started to revive.

"W-w-what happened?" he said, bolting upright. "W-w-where am I?"

"Don't panic my boy, you are in the grounds of the castle," said Lockhart soothingly. "It appears that you collapsed when searching for these two boys. Luckily, they found you and came straight to me, knowing my skill at reviving those suffering from severe head trauma, as described in my bestselling classic _Voyages With Vampires_."

"D-d-did we win the Quidditch match," asked Crane hazily. "I can't remember anything."

"Yeah," grinned Scorpius feeling a wave of relief, "We absolutely smashed them."

"Nice," replied Crane with a dazed smile.

"Mr. Malfoy will kindly escort you to the hospital wing, where you will remain under observation over night."

Scorpius looked slightly surprised, but he pulled Crane up under the arm pits and with surprising strength supported his weight as they staggered back to the castle together.

"Will he be alright?" asked Albus.

"Absolutely fine," said Lockhart. "He'll just need a couple of days to fully regain his sharpness. Remember our bargain, boy. You keep your mouth zipped about the...slight exaggerations in my work. And I'll keep quiet about how you and your friend violently assaulted a fellow pupil and blackmailed me into modifying his memory."

"Deal," said Albus, hoping that boring, safe Professor Constantine was soon fit enough to teach potions again and Lockhart was forced to leave the castle.

They walked back to the oak doors in silence, and over the stone floors of the entrance hall, coming to a parting at a gloomy looking stairwell. The Slytherin dormitories were downstairs in the dungeons, whereas Lockhart's office was on the third floor.

"Well...goodnight," said Albus, somewhat lamely.

"You'll never get him, you know," said Lockhart silkily. "Your love is doomed to failure. You must have seen the way he looks at Mrs Weasley, the animalistic lust in his eyes. You're just a toy to him...bitter experience will teach you that. Leave your fatal crush aside, and focus on someone who can _truly_ love you back."

Lockhart gave a speechless Albus the same glinting, creepy look he had given him in the office.

"Sleep well, Potter," he murmured softly, and walked elegantly up the stairs and out of sight.

 

\----

 

Albus and Scorpius made no mention of what had happened at the lake over the next few weeks. They were being kept busy by the mountainous levels of homework which were being set, and soon their friendship had returned to normal. Albus had began taking extra Defence Against The Dark Arts classes on an evening, determined to improve and live up to the family name – he was pleased to have something to take his mind off the tumult and confusion his feelings for Scorpius had caused.

They quickly slipped back into their old routines, playing chess together in the dormitory, coming up with practical jokes to try out on unsuspecting first years. Most evenings were spent gorging on chocolate frogs by the fire with their fellow fourth years, warming their hands and enjoying the camaraderie of the Slytherin common room, which had seemed to contain a lingering euphoria since their emphatic demolition of Gryffindor in the Quidditch Cup.

The school was now adorned with majestic Christmas decorations. In the Slytherin quarters, huge shiny green baubles hung from every part of the ceiling, glinting in the pale winter sun during the day and reflecting the warm, blazing fire on an evening. A huge dark green tree with thick branches was shedding pine needles in the corner, and generally spirits were as warm and cheery as anyone in the house could remember. The only downside for Albus was that Gilderoy Lockhart would be staying on until the end of the term, and kept giving him seedy, knowing glances from the front of the potions classroom - Professor Constantine's lacerations had become infected, and he would not be fit to teach until January.

Scorpius was more popular than ever after his record breaking performance, and seemed to be relishing his notoriety. He strutted around the school with a wide smile permanently etched to his face, sardonically insulting both students and teachers with his dry wit, the latter of whom were being typically indulgent, seemingly unable to punish him harshly when confronted with those bewitching blue eyes or that soft, beautiful face. His jittery exhaustion seemed to have disappeared completely, although Albus did notice with curiosity a strange new tendency he had to duck in and out of bathrooms, always alone.

Albus had surprised himself by securing a date to the Yule Ball, the much anticipated final social event of the year which was only a few days away. He would be going with Selena Black, who had taken to joining her twin brother when Albus tried in vain to teach him the mysteries of potions. She usually sat silently in a corner, drawing sketches or experimenting with various styles of makeup, sometimes attempting to transfigure silver jewelry into weird and wonderful shapes. She was as still and quiet as her brother was hyperactive and loud. After she had loudly complained she had nobody to go to the ball with, Albus spontaneously asked her to go with him.

"I thought you'd never ask," she murmured, with a lazy confidence and a sultry voice far beyond her thirteen years. She gave him and kiss on the cheek as she sauntered away, and Albus was surprised to find his pale face blushing bright red and his lips grinning widely as he glanced in a mirror on the way back to the common room.

"How long have you been grooming her, you nonce," laughed Scorpius, who was going with Rose Weasley's best friend Rebecca Nelson, much to Rose's irritation. "Bit young isn't she? Only a second year."

"She's thirteen and I'm fourteen," said Albus defensively. "Nothing wrong with that."

"She looks about twenty one, to be fair," said Scorpius. "Bet she is well up for it. If either of us pull, we'll leave a sock on the dormitory door as a warning...actually, no, the house elf who cleans our beds might pick it up by mistake and gain her freedom...can't be having that, she always leaves a hot water bottle in my bed when the temperature drops below ten degrees, I'd be lost without her...we'll leave a piece of string instead..."

"Don't hold your breath," said Albus. "Rebecca Nelson's hasn't even kissed anyone as far as I know."

"Yet," grinned Scorpius, before grabbing Albus playfully in a headlock and forcing him to the ground where they wrestled around for several minutes until a girl who was trying to revise told them to keep the noise down. They trudged up to bed laughing, filled with festive cheer, the glow of friendship and growing excitement for the ball.


End file.
